Dreaming Reality
by Emerys1779
Summary: Harry learns through a series of dreams that reality is far from what he believes. Does he stick his head in the sand or does he take the chance that what he dreamed is really the truth?
1. Chapter 1

Canon up until the end of fourth year but Harry learns in a series of dreams that his reality might not be what really happened. It'll be explained as we go along why he's having these dreams.

There will be abuse, especially in the first couple of chapters. Major Dumbledore bashing and good Voldemort and good Death eaters. I'm pretty set on it being slash but not with Voldie. So far no Weasley bashing but that night change as Harry defects.

Warning, this is completey AU. So don't bother reviewing just to tell me that its not like in the book or its wrong. It's deliberte!

Also some of the dates and ages will be wrong. I will be runing a timeline at the ends of the chapters to help you keep track.

* * *

"Let's go you ungrateful freak." Vernon growled grabbing the kid by the scuff of the neck and dragging him through the train station. They were entirely too close to the freaks and their unnatural platform. The sooner they got back to the car and the normal world the better.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep the grimace off his face as he struggled to keep hold of both his trunk and Hedwig's cage. He could feel the stares coming their way and prayed none of the muggles would speak up. The last thing he needed was his uncle anymore upset than he already was. Though the man's anger was no more than he deserved considering. He had gotten Cedric killed not even a week ago after all and did deserve some punishment for that.

Cedric's lifeless blue eyes flashed through his mind and it took everything he had to keep the tears from pouring down his face as quilt swamped him. Blood filled the inside of his mouth as his teeth slashed through the tender flesh. The metallic taste only added to his raising sickness.

Vernon's grip tightened painfully as he felt the kid stumble, the meaty fingers leaving large oval shaped bruises on the pale flesh. "Don't you be trying any of your tricks now." He warned gruffly. "You've got plenty of work waiting for you the minute we get home and there'll be no excuse for you not getting it done."

"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry answered as he swallowed deeply. 'Don't think about it, don't think about it.' He chanted inside his head.

His uncle released him with a sharp shove that had him hitting the side of the car with his chest. "Put your stuff in the boot before I decide to leave it here. And make sure you keep that wretched bird quiet."

"Yes sir." He mumbled, opting to put Hedwig in the backseat before dealing with his trunk. He wouldn't put it past the man to drive off before he was done and while he might be able to jump through the open door Hedwig would have been stuck in her cage.

"Should have let you fly home." He murmured to his first friend as he got her situated. "Or better yet had you stay at Hogwarts. It's not like anyone's going to want to write to me this summer anyway, not after what happened to..." He trailed off with a grimace as the snowy owl gave a quiet hoot. "I know, don't think about it." He agreed, backing out and staring at his trunk in trepdation.

The thing was bloody heavy and the lack of food in the last week had his arms as limp as wet noodles. He doubted he could lift it into the boot as instructed and knew one scratch to his uncle's car would no doubt get him a beating. 'Don't know why I'm afraid of that.' He muttered mentally. 'Maybe, just maybe it'll ease up some of this quilt I'm carrying around so that I can actually breath a little. Not that one beating will make up for Cedric's death but it would be a start.' He decided, sliding the trunk up the back end of the car. He took preverse pleasure in the long scratch that appeared on the bumper.

"Boy, quit lollygagging and get in the car." Vernon hollered from the front seat.

Harry slammed the lid down and rushed to climb through the open back door, managing to get his torso and one leg in before the car peeled out of the lot. He bit back a yelp as the door swung shut from the acceleration catching his other leg hard enough to break the skin.

The hour long ride was taken in silence with the teen going back and forth between elation atht he would finally do some penance for his horrible sin and mind numbing fear about the beating he was sure to get. He barely noticed when they pulled into the driveway but his uncle's outraged yell had him scrambling out of the car.

"You unnatural freak." Spittle flew fromt he outraged man's mouth as he advanced on the terrified boy. "You wretched excuse for a human being. You've ruined my car."

"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon." Harry pleaded through bloodless lips. He held his ground, knowing that backing away would only anger the man further.

"Did you think I wouldn't see it? Did you think you would get away with it?" He raged, his hands reaching for the boy's neck.

"Vernon." The sharply spoken word came from the doorway. Harry could see his aunt standing there making nervous gestures toward the neighbors.

'Of course.' Harry thought bitterly as his uncle turned away. 'Mustn't do anything where anyone could see. We don't want the neighborhood to know what you're really like.' He reached for Hedwig's cage. He quickly flicked the latch on the cage and motioned for her to take flight. He didn't trust his uncle not to hurt her just to punish him.

Turning he watched as the big man lifted the trunk out of the boot without diff. 'If you'd done that the first time around your precious car wouldn't have been scratched." Harry wanted to shout but clamped his lips over the words as his uncle hissed at him to get inside.

Going through the door he found his aunt glaring at him in displeasure while his fat pig of a cousin danced gleefully in the background.

"I have your rod dad." He shouted as his father came through the door. "Knew you'd want to get started right away."

Harry paled at the sight of the weapon, a length of unyielding wood an inch in diameter that did more for breaking bones than leaving welts.

"Don't get any blood on the carpet." Petunia warned as she retreated upstairs. She didn't begrudge her nephew his punishment but she didn't like to witness the violence if she could help it.

"On your knees boy." Vernon snarled as he accepted the stick from his son. He felt a perverse bit of pleasure as he watched the freak submit. It's where all freaks deserved to be, on thier hands and knees before normal folks, he decided as the lashed the rod down.

Harry sucked in a breath as the first stroke hit just below his shoulders. 'I deserve this.' He reminded himself. 'For Cedric.' He vowed hissing as the second hit cracked a rib.

The third stroke was aimed at his ankles, the edge of wood catching the bony protuberances. Before he was through Harry knew his uncle would have targeted his elbows, his wrists, lashed his hands as they lay flat against the floor, and ensured his back was a mass of bruises. His uncle would do what it took to exert the maximum amount of pain possible.

Vernon watching with mounting pleasure as the back bowed in, as fingers turned sideways, limbs trembled until finally giving out so that the limp body was splayed against the floor. He was pleased to note the worn tee had spots of blood seeping through, though none fell to the floor.

"Lock your stuff up in the cupboard then get the lawns mowed. Be quick about it. If the neighbors complain I'll have another go at you." The man warned before throwing an arm around his grinning son. "Let's get your mother down to make us a snack." He said leading the boy into the kitchen. "I've worked up an appetite."

Once alone Harry pushed himself up and carefully and took stock of his injuries. "Wasn't that bad really,' he thought as he scooted to his cupboard. His ankle hurt something fierce but didn't appear broken. The rest of his lower half seemed to have escaped injury. Two of his fingers were broken, he noted. Averting his eyes he pulled and prodded until they lay straight before wrapping them with a piece of cloth he'd pulled from the cupboard. He kept a stash there, knowing most of his beatings occured the minute his uncle walked through the door.

He tentavily felt along his ribs, finding three that moved where they shouldn't. 'Hurts like a bitch to breath but I'm not coughing up blood and that's something,' he reasoned as he wound another cloth around his chest.

He grimaced at the stickiness on his back. He knew any external wounds would be healed by morning. It was just the way it was and had been since he was five and the social worker had shown inquiring about bruises. The Dursleys had managed to explain it away and then almost killed him for bringing suspicion upon them. He guessed his magic and kicked in to make sure it didn't occur again. The downside to the lack of visible bruises or lasting scars was the amount of time it took for the internal injuries and broken bones to heal. He wasn't a doctor or a healer but it seemed the more wounds he had on the outside that healed overnight the longer it took for everything else to heal.

He let these thoughts float around as he stumbled outside, blinking in the late afternoon sunlight. 'At least they didn't let it grow a foot high this time." He mumbled as he eyed the lawn. He wondered as he always did when he got home for the summer who took care of the yard when he wasn't there.

Shrugging he pulled the mower out of the shed, his wrist popping suspicioulsy at the activity. He was irritated to find the fuleage empty and fearful that there wouldn't be any petrol available. His uncle would be furious if the yard wasn't done that night.

His relief at finding the spare can full quickly turned to agiation at the time lost while he hunted it down. "The neighbors will have kittens if I'm mowing after dark." He muttered as the machine roared to life. Taking quick steps and heaving short gasping breaths he steered the mower back and forth over the large space.

"At least the front is mostly flower beds." He muttered as he kept an eye on the rapidly sinking sun. He could feel his ankle swelling and noted that his wrist had an odd shade to it. "Should have taken the time to wrap them." He sighed knowing the aches would keep him up most of the might.

It was full dark by the time he pushed the machine back into the shed. Removing his grass stained shoes on the stoop he eased through the kitchen door.

His aunt eyed him sternly from where she was scrubbing down the kitchen counter. "Up to your room quick before I change my mind and give you something to do."

Harry nodded gratefully and hurried up the stairs. A quick trip to the bathroom showed his uncle had managed to hit his kidneys this time. If he was lucky he'd only be pissing blood for a couple of days. If he was unlucky he'd bleed out during the night. Perhaps that should be the other way around? He gave a grim chuckle at the thought as he striped off his sweaty clothes and climbed into bed in equally dirty boxers and his rag bindings.

He didn't think he would have been about to sleep, hadn't slept in over a week. Not since that night he'd spent in the graveyard. But either the exertion of moving or his injuries were talking a toll on him, causing his eyes to slide shut of their own violation. He was quickly sucked into a dream not of his own making.

_Harry opened his eyes and looked around. Somehow he knew it was a dream, just not a regular dream. It felt almost like the trip he'd taken in Dumbledore's pensive the year before and into Riddle's diary his second year. _

_He ignored the people around the table for a minute to exam his surrounding. He was in a fairly large dining room. Luxurious but not obstenious. The warm jewel tones kept it homey and relaxing as did the numerous plants and art. Garden scenes that not only brought out the colors of the room but brought in the flowers that bloomed outside the numerous windows._

_"What do you think Tom?" One of the men gathered asked, capturing Harry's attention._

_There was a low chuckle from the head of the table. "Getting impatient are we Reginald?" The dark haired man asked. Harry gasped, shocked to see an older version of the sixteen year old Riddle he'd met in his second year. He'd put the man about twenty years older than the boy but there was no mistaking they were the same person._

_"Lestrange is always impatient." Came a voice from the right. Harry narrowed his eyes suspicioulsy at the Malfoy look a like._

_"Now Abraxas." Voldemort, or was it Tom Harry wondered, his eyes going wide as the man smiled at what he guessed were his friends. "You were once impatient when you had a warm and willing witch waiting for you."_

_"You'd best be speaking in a more pleasing tone when speaking of what's waiting for you." The linting irish tone was preceded by a golden beauty with rich blue eyes._

_Harry grinned along with the men at the table as they burst into loud laughter when Tom winced. "Would I speak any other way to you?" he asked charmingly._

_"You would and I've heard it." She reminded him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head that had Harry goggling._

_She turned to stare firmly at the first man that had spoken. "Reginald Lestrange. Might I remind you that Rudopholous will be leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow. You should at least spend some time with him before he goes."_

_Reginald grimaced and hunched his shoulders under his steely glare. "The boy's going into his third year. He doesn't need me holding his hand. Head's in his books most time anyway." He continued to mumble. "Wants to be a healer."_

" A fine profession." Tom interjected. "And one we'll need if our plans continue."

"Be lucky you have a son and not a daughter." A dour man said from the other end of the table. "I've got three and all have the Black stubborness."

_"I'll be talking to you soon then. I'm afraid Rudo'll need a stubborn woman to keep his feet firmly on the ground." The baffled father shook his head. "And now Ranee is clambering for another. Can you imagine having one this late in the game?"_

_The beautiful blond smiled, one hand on Tom's shoulder, the other laid across her belly. "I think it's lovely. They can be playmates, your bairn and the one we'll be having this spring."_

_Tom smiled proudly as he reached up to grasp her hand. "Which brings us back to our discussion. Bringing the British Wizarding World back to the standard we once held amonst our neighbors." His voice was confident, his eyes warm as they watched his wife slip out the door._

_"We've gone stagnant." Came a voice from further down the table._

_"Mulciber's right." The man with the three daughters painted out. "Ever since Grindlewald's defeat we've not had one decent improvementnt in our way of life. Nobodies inventing, or experimenting or if they are they're afraid to come forward with it. We'll be in the dark ages before we know it."_

_"It's Dumbledore's fault." The older Malfoy pointed out. "It'll be worse now that he's become headmaster of the school. Our standards of education are already falling and he's content to pass the time instead of hiring decent and competent professors."_

_"The areas he does stand up for he only puts in half an effort." An unknown man pointed out. "He talks a big game about bringing in the muggleborns but does nothing to educate them so they fit in better or understand our laws and ways."_

_"He wants them to be outsiders." Tom pointed out. "They'll feel outrisized and discrimated against and will revolt against us, gathering behind Dumbledore as their leader. That's his whole purpose with his agenda, gaining power. He doesn't care about them."_

_"Nor does he want them here." Reginald pointed out, his belgium accent coming out stronger. "He denies us the advances muggles have made in entertainment, fashion, art and sports while blaming it on our pureblood values. Let me tell you my wife and I enjoy taking in a show but I'll be damned if I have to go to Paris everytime I want a bit of fun."_

_Tom nodded. "We need to stop our government from cutting us off from the other wizarding worlds. The French, the Americans, the Chinese, they are all years ahead of us culturely. They laugh at us when we're not around."_

_Eyes shining bright he continued, his voice strong. "We don't turn away the other species. We welcome them, we learn from them and we teach them."_

_"Dumbledore's messed up there." A man leaned forward out of the shadows, flashing sharp teeth. "He talks about wanting equality but turns his back on the little ones that get bit and turned out of their homes. I'm the one finding them families and packs. He covers by saying i'm the one biting them, that I have a taste for children. The packs know the truth and are gunning for his head."_

_"That'll work in our favor." Tom nodded. "He hasn't garnered any favors from the vampires either and doesn't even consider the dementers to be viable entities. We can use that."_

_'He'll try to stop us." Mulciber pointed out._

_"We'll go to war." Tom answered with conviction. "We start a revolution of change, for our culture, for our children."_

_"He's got a glib tongue and he's still in favor from Grindlewald's defeat. He'll turn people against us." The unknown man warned._

_"They can whisper and call us names. We'll stand by our convictions and they'll prove we're right."_

* * *

Start of the timeline

1926-Tom Riddle is born and placed in orphanage.

1938-Tom Riddle starts Hogwarts

1945- Tom Riddle graduates Hogwarts.

1956- Tom begins making a name for himself politically. He and his supporters (friends from school) arouse opposition to their plan.

1963-above meeting takes place.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Harry woke feeling refreshed despite his weird dream. How odd to think that it wasn't all about killing and torture but some ideas that actually had a lot of potential. Had it been a real memory?

If not where had he come up with all the different men? The one that had to be Draco Malfoy's grandfather, the Lestrange man worried about having another kid, the man with the three daughters that had looked a bit like Sirius. Greyback, wasn't he the werewolf that had bit Lupin? He certainly hadn't looked as feral as Moony had described. And hadn't the man said he didn't hurt children? Had Lupin lied to him or was his subconscious playing games with him?

The strangest part had to be the blond woman and the way Voldemort treated her. Had he been married? What had happened to her and the baby? Was there a Voldie Jr running around out there somewhere?

Snickering at the thought he pushed himself up off the bed, pleased to find only a small amount of swelling in his ankle. His wrist was back to a normal hue though it still creaked ominously, while his two broken fingers had puffed up like sausages.

Hearing noises outside his door he hurried to get dressed, knowing his aunt would be fussing at him to start breakfast any minute. He stopped in the bathroom long enough to guzzle as much water as he could figuring it would be the last he would get for the day. He bemoaned the fact that his trunk had been locked up before he'd been able to get to the stash of food he secreted away.

"Morning Aunt Petunia." He said softly, pulling out eggs and ham. She failed to return his greeting as she set at the table sipping her tea and working on a long list of something or other. He figured it was his chores for the day or maybe the shopping list now that Dudley was there to eat everything in sight.

He had just finished putting the last of the dishes on the table when his uncle appeared, as surly and uncommunicative as he was every morning. Grateful to keep out of the man's way he busied himself washing the pots and pans he'd used and scrubbing the stove. He gave a little sigh of relief when the man finished and left for work without a word.

"Get on upstairs and scrub down the bathrooms while we wait for Duddikins to have his lie in." His aunt instructed as she piled the left over food onto a large plate and slid it into the warmer. Harry knew he wouldn't be getting anything to eat unless Dudley left something on the plate which wasn't likely.

Trudging upstairs he started with the master bath. If he did the other first he'd only have to clean it again once Dudley finished his morning business there. Not that the one Uncle Vernon used was any better, he thought grimacing as he spotted urine stains on the wall behind the toilet and on the floor. Honestly was the man so fat he couldn't see to aim, Harry wondered in disgust. The sink was no better with bits of shaving cream and whiskers all about the surface.

Taking a bottle of all purpose cleaner from the cabinet he sprayed liberal amounts on every surface, coughing at the chemical fumes it produced. He grabbed a rag and began scrubbing, mumbling curses at slobs under his breath every other minute. While he worked his mind wondered back to his dream.

It had been nothing like the scene in the graveyard where the death eaters had trembled in fear and kissed snake face's robes. The men in the dream had been friends, laughing and teasing, planning, sharing ideas. Was it because they were of an age of Voldemort? Had they gone to school with a young Tom Riddle and grown up with him?

The majority of those men were dead now, he realized. That left Voldemort having to work with their sons and daughters. Did that make a difference, did it make him feel superior to them?

He barely noticed when he finished one room and moved into the next, the hem of his frayed jeans soaking up the copious amounts of water his cousin had left on the floor.

Did Voldemort miss Tom's face? He wondered as he sprayed the cleaner. Tom Riddle had been a handsome man, distinguished, polished. He wouldn't have looked out of place at the opera or a board room.

Now he looked like a snake, an albino snake, Harry reminded himself breaking into quiet laughter. Served him right considering everything he's done, everyone he's murdered.

He paused as he was struck with another thought. Had the blond known, was aware of what he was, what he would become? How could she stay with a man that could kill without remorse? How could she bring a child into that kind of life? He pondered the question as he carried wet towels to the laundry room.

Head spinning he barely acknowledged his aunt as she pointed him to the garden. What was the saying about nature versus nurture? Would Voldie Jr be an evil sycophant like his father even if he hadn't grown up with him? Maybe the mother had run and taken the kid with her, changed their name. That would be why no one had thought to warn him that their might be a second evil dark lord out their looking to end his life.

Feeling the sizzle of heat on the back of his neck he looked up shocked to see the sun so high in the sky. He judged it to be about mid afternoon and in the hours past he'd weeded the garden, mulched, and repaired and replaced the edgings as needed.

He snorted quietly to himself. Apparently obsessing over Voldemort was a good way to pass the time. He hadn't even felt the aches form his broken bones though they were coming on like a bitch now.

He rubbed his wrist, his skin prickling as he felt himself being watched for the first time. He hurriedly scanned the area, not sure if he was looking for the suave Tome Riddle or the snake faced Voldemort. He gave a little laugh at himself as he gathered the gardening tools and carted them back to the shed. He was being foolish obsessing over something that most likely wasn't even real, though he had to admit it was better than thinking about nightmares that had really happened.

"You're done then?" His aunt asked as he stepped up to the kitchen door.

"Yes Aunt Petunia." He answered dutifully, pushing the automatic sarcasm down.

She shoved a meager sandwich and a glass of water into his hands. "Eat that quick then get started on the shed. The outside walls need to be scrubbed then you can start painting it."

"Yes Aunt Petunia." He answered, turning away to take a large bit of the sandwich. The weight of the glass was putting pressure on his sore wrist so he set it down on the stoop. Kneeling in the shade he studied the old shed. It would be easier he knew to just pressure wash the thing but his aunt would accuse of him wasting water. He'd have to get a bucket and a scrub brush and scrub all the dirt off before giving it a quick rinse. It'd have to dry overnight and he could start painting in the morning. Once that was done he'd probably have to start on the inside he mused, grimacing at the dirty, sweaty work that was going to be.

He finished the last of the sandwich and gulped down the water, being sure to place the glass in a spot where his oaf of a cousin wouldn't knock it over. He got out the bucket, the scrub brush, mixed soap and water while he reviewed more of the conversation he had dreamed.

Had it really happened in the past? Or was it his subconscious bringing up issues he had with the wizarding world? He had to admit that he agreed with most of the had been discussed.

Muggleborns did have a hard time of it. They were brought in with no background and expected to function as well as children who'd lived there their entire lives. It was like taking an american kid and suddenly expecting them to be chinese.

He shook his head. What was the harm of having a preschool of sorts for the muggleborns? One that could include parents so they would have a better understanding and be able to support their children better.

One of his biggest pet peeves with Hogwarts was its total exclusion of the muggleborn parents. This made the children wholly dependent on Dumbledore and yeah that fit in perfectly with what the men had been saying.

They'd also talked about the wizarding world being culturally stunted. He could see that. he remembered being shocked when he'd first entered. And Hermione was was always going on about why didn't they do this or that? Quills and scrolls were unyielding, hard to carry around and expensive. What was wrong with a notebook and a pen? He could certainly write a lot neater with a ball point than a quill that dripped ink every where.

And wouldn't phones be easier than kneeling on the hard ground and sticking your head in a fireplace? A lot more practical too. He could understand that they wouldn't work in Hogwarts but not every place was that old or absorbed that much ambient magic. There was no reason the magical in and around London wouldn't be able to use them.

Charging them might be a problem what with the lack of electricity in the wizarding world but solar power and rechargeable batteries would eliminate any need to run power lines. And wouldn't it be nice to dial Hermione to ask about a homework problem?

He snorted to himself as he finished one side and rounded the back. Not that he'd have access to a phone even if they were available in diagon alley. Sure he'd be able to purchase one with his galleons but Dudley would be able to sniff it out in a heartbeat.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as his uncle's car pulled into the driveway. Minutes later the floppy jowls were outlined in the kitchen window as the man glared out at him. Harry wasn't too concerned. He'd done a considerable amount of work that day and his uncle usually didn't beat him more than once a week unless something freaky happened or his uncle came home wasted, either of which meant all bets were off.

The light in the kitchen remained on, letting Harry know the family was sitting down to dinner. His aunt had been making pork loin earlier and he knew she would pair it with copious amounts of mashed potatoes. His mouth watered at the thought and he attacked the shed with renewed vigor. If he finished quick enough he could get inside as his aunt was cleaning up. If that was the case she might be inclined to give him a bite or two before she binned everything.

He scrubbed with a vengeance and was just putting up his tools when he noticed the kitchen go dark. His shoulders slumped. He'd woken up that morning with an appetite for the first time in a week and the meager sandwich had done nothing but incite the hunger. Now it looked like there would be no food coming his way and probably none in the morning.

He entered the house silently, his eyes searching the dark room for a bit of roll or a piece of meat his aunt might have left for him. He knew it was futile but he couldn't help looking. Easing down the corridor he slid around the bannister of the stairs, careful to keep his gaze from the living room. His uncle would be too immersed in his evening stories to pay him any mind but if his cousin was in the room held start something for his own entertainment.

Making it to his room safely he stood contemplating his bed. He wondered wearily as he flopped on the thin mattress if he would have the same dream or would it be his reoccurring nightmare this time that had him waking in the middle of the night with a hoarse scream.

_He knew as soon as he opened his eyes that he was in the same vision like state as before but the dreams couldn't have been more different. _

_He was in the same dining room but this time people were rushing in and out while loud booms came from the outside. Through the chaos Harry found Tom standing at the window staring out into a darkness that was illuminated with brief flashes of light. Harry was fascinated to see the look of deep concentration marring the elegant lines. _

_"It's Dumbledore's people." Reginald announced as he hurried through the door._

_The dark haired man nodded. "Is he here himself?"_

_His friend shook his head. "Not that we could see. But two of his strongest lieutenants came. Its them who are pounding the wards. They're strong."_

_"I'm stronger." Tom answered confidently, his gaze not wavering. "I'll be able to hold them off." He smiled in satisfaction as a brilliant explosion failed to reach the manor. "It's possible Dumbledore's leading an attack on one of the others." _

_Lestrange nodded. "Most everyone has retreated to the safe house. Cygnus has locked down the Black houses. Fenrir's with the werewolf packs." He swallowed thickly. "Rudo's still at Hogwarts."_

_Tom hissed out a breath. "We'll just have to trust his judgement. He's got a portkey if he needs it. And next year he'll go to Drumstrang."_

_"They've got aurors out there Tom. They're calling you a terrorist." Abraxas said as he came in._

_"They can call me all the names they want. I'm not backing down."_

_"But this," Reginald looked helpless at the mass of men firing on the wards. "This is brutal and uncivilized."_

_"What would you have me do?" Tom asked with a deep frown. "Let the wards fall, allow them to take me for speaking my mind, for pointing out all their faults? I have not hurt anyone who has not fired on me and mine first. I have not broken any laws yet they issue warrants for my arrest."_

_Behind them a house elf popped into view. "Blessing is sorry to be disturbing you Master." The elf stated ringing her hands._

_"Then why are you?" Tom asked a bit impatiently. _

_"Masters Lady Sara not be leaving." The elf cried. _

_"What?" He cried, his concentration breaking so that one of the balls of bright light hit the house with a large explosion. "Reginald." He gritted out as he turned back to the window. _

_"I'll take care of it ." The man promised, hurrying out of the room. _

_"Stun the stubborn witch." He snarled after him, mentally cursing his wife. She had promised him she would go to the safe house without fuss. She was hugely pregnant for Merlin's sake. _

_He forced his concentration back to the wards. The hit that had managed to get through during his lapse had done little damage but there was no denying that the spot was now weaker and would surely be a target . _

_"Tom." The frantic shout floated down the stairs. . "The bloody woman's gone into labor."_

_The expectant father froze before turning and rushing for the the second floor. Gaping in shock at the fear he'd seen on the white face Harry was dragged along. _

_"Bloody hell woman what do you think you're doing going into labor at a time like this?" Tom's loud growl reached the pale women before he was through the door. _

_"Blame it on your daughter love. She's just as impatient as her father." She smiled tiredly before frowning in concern as the building shook once more. "Tom the wards."_

_""How am I supposed to concentrate when you're laying there having my child?" He snapped before moving to the front facing window. "You should go to St. Mungos."_

_"It's too late Tom." Reginald told him, panic filling his face. Harry felt an equal spurt of panic, he did not want to watch a woman giving birth even if it was a dream! "They gone and blocked the floos somehow." The man continued. _

_Tom cursed under his breath as a feeling of desperation almost choked him. It was standard for the first coarse of action during a battle for either side was to throw up anti-apparition fields and if they were especially talented anti-portkey ones. He coked an eyebrow but his second in command was already shaking his head._

_"We're trapped then." Sara asked calmly, a hand kneading at the bulge of her belly._

_"Not that it's a big deal." He answered, wishing he could hold her instead of the wards. "You'll be safe inside." He gave her a teasing smile. "And it's not like women don't bring babies into this world everyday."_

_"Right you may be but I hadn't planned on bringing this one into the world at home or by myself for that matter." She said said with a slight laugh that turned into a grimace._

_"You're hardly alone. Reginald is here and," He added after a glance at his very pale friend, "more importantly Blessing." He added getting a small laugh from his beautiful wife. _

_Two hours passed, during which Harry paced behind the trembling Reginald trying everything he could to wake up. He could practically feel the worry coming from the man at the window and could do nothing about the increasingly loud moans coming from the woman on the bed._

_Harry was distracted by the squeaking of the house elf as it suddenly started rushing around. What's going on? he asked numbly as he backed towards the door, the furthest the dream would allow him to go._

_"Tom." She cried, arching off the bed as another contraction hit. "Something's wrong with the baby."_

_He took a step toward her, halting when the house shook. "What?" he demanded. "What's happening?"_

_When pain kept her from answering he turned to their elf. The creature shook its head. "I's being sorry Master, mistress is right. Blessing can feel the tiny one's magic leaving."_

_"The baby's dieing?" He asked as his heart clenched. Tears welled out of pain filled eyes as she nodded._

_"I'll turn myself in." He declared. "I'll drop the wards and they can take you to the hospital."_

_"No." His wife gasped out. "They'll kill you."_

_He shook his head. "You and our child are more important."_

_"I won't get there in time." She told him and he could see the truth in her eyes. "And then I would have lost you both."_

_"I'm sorry, so sorry." His eyes became wet as he grasped her hand._

_"As am I." She whispered. "I should have left as soon as the men arrived."_

_Harry watched as grief passed over his enemies face. He turned away feeling like an intruder to a private family moment. _

_They sat like that for several more minutes, Tom holding the wards while his wife battled the pain. Every time she cried out he cursed the magic that had no fix for this kind of situation. She would have to birth the babe whether it breathed or not. _

_"I'm so sorry, horribly sorry that I let this happen." He murmured in a litany, frantic eyes taking in the bloodied blankets the house elf was removing. He didn't think labor was quite that messy, nor did he like the listless look that was leeching into her eyes. "Come now you have to stay with me. We'll make more, a whole houseful more but you have to stay." He cried worriedly._

_She clutched his hand weakly. "I don't want to leave you." Came the broken words._

_He turned to glare at the sobbing house elf. "Do something damn it. Don't just stand there."_

_"Blessing is sorry sirs but there is nothing more to do." The elf wailed._

_Reginald, his eyes crinkled in pain for his friend and the woman who'd always been so nice to him, took the elf by the shoulders and guided her out. Harry looked after them longingly, wishing he too could leave._

_"I love you." Tom whispered, letting the wards fall as he gathered her into his arms. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."_

_"Promise me," She whispered. "Promise me that you won't turn into a hard man, that you won't shut shut everyone out." She laid a hand over his chest. "Your heart is so big. Make sure you share it with someone."_

_He shook his head. "I'll never find anyone else like you."_

_"Promise." She begged as her eyes slid closed._

_"I do my lovely irish queen." He murmured. "I'll always do what you ask."_

* * *

_"Have you come to take me then?" He asked hours later, his voice broken. Harry was roused from his stupor as he watched Dumbledore step into the room._

_"Oh I don't think so." The older man answered. "That was never my intention."_

_"What? Was this just an exercise? A chance to show off your lieutenants and their skills?" Tom asked bitterly, brushing the hair back from his wife's face._

_"Oh no." Dumbledore assured him, taking a seat in the opposite chair and smiling back at the distraught man. "I sent them here with a very specific purpose." He glanced at the body on the bed. "But it seems you've already taken care of that._

_Rage kindled and flashed in the brown eyes. "You wanted to kill my wife? Why? For what purpose?"_

_"Oh for a number of reasons." Dumbledore answered airily, unconcerned with the danger he was currently in. "She was very likable and wizarding public simply adored her. She made you seem very approachable, you ideas valid. The child would have only added to that."_

_"You wanted her dead for politics." The dazed man murmured._

_Dumbledore smiled. "Oh for a bit more than that. You see I need an opponent, an evil dark lord in opposition of my light leader status so to speak. After all its been almost 20 years since my last great victory and people so often forget."_

_Tom stared back at him blankly. "And you've hand picked me to be the this dark lord?" _

_"Oh no, you did that yourself when you contested me politicly. Its for everyone's benefit that you are of equal magical power. A better show if you will." He shrugged as his grin got bigger. "It'll just increase my popularity when I destroy you."_

"And dark lords aren't allowed to have wives, families?" The hissed whisper was heard through out the room.

"She made you soft Tom." Dumbledore chided. "I need you ruthless."

The younger man snarled in response, half rising out of his chair. "I won't be the man you want me to be."

"You already are." Albus pointed out triumphantly. "You killed your wife."

"She died in childbirth." Tom yelled back, falteringly slightly at the accusation.

"Because you denied her help." The smug man pointed out calmly

"We were locked in here and under siege." He ground out, his eyes flickering to the door. He worried about his friends, those men that had stayed in the house with him.

"You were resisting when the aurors had a declaration from the minister himself for your arrest. All you had to do was turn yourself in and she would have gotten help." The old man assured him, his smirk turning maliciously as his new enemy once again staggered.

"That's a lie." Tom said desperately. "You said yourself they were here to kill her."

"That's not how the public will see it." Dumbledore said triumphantly as he stood. "Do not fear for your men, I will leave them unharmed, for now. Dark Lords do need minions after all." He bowed slightly. "Welcome to the game Lord Voldemort."

Tom reared back. "That's a name conjured up by an ignorant teenager."

"But a fitting one for a dark lord." Dumbledore paused at the doorway, his eyes flickering back to the body on the bed. "I'm sorry for your loss."


End file.
